


you know the way i can be

by editorwilbur



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Afterlife, Smoking, post-doomsday pre-finale, thoughts on them, very minor self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editorwilbur/pseuds/editorwilbur
Summary: Not even death could stop Schlatt from drinking.He's at the very least tipsy all the time, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Undignified, in Wilbur's opinion. At least fucking sip it, jesus christ. He smokes too, but that's a little more agreeable. Wilbur can easily bum cigarettes off him and satisfy both their cravings.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	you know the way i can be

**Author's Note:**

> if this is incoherent. i am sorry. *thinks of them*

Not even death could stop Schlatt from drinking.

He's at the very least tipsy all the time, drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Undignified, in Wilbur's opinion. At least fucking sip it, jesus christ. He smokes too, but that's a little more agreeable. Wilbur can easily bum cigarettes off him and satisfy both their cravings.

"Morning." Schlatt sits down cross-legged next to Wilbur's head. 

Wilbur's lying down on the ground (or at least a solid surface within the void of the afterlife), staring up into the nothingness. "There is no morning."

"Christ, I'm trying to be friendly." Schlatt pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of nowhere. "Want one?"

"Always." Wilbur pushes himself up onto his elbows. 

Wordlessly and cockily, Schlatt flicks out one of the cigarettes, lights it, and takes a long drag before passing it off to Wilbur.

"Dickhead." Wilbur slots it between his index and middle finger. 

"Actually, it's President dickhead." The words are accompanied with lots of smoke and the lighting of a new cigarette. "Least you could do."

"Right, right, and who exactly lost their presidency before death?"

"You did. I had a very presidential heart attack."

Wilbur snorts, and Schlatt smiles, and they both distract themselves from the momentary companionship by taking almost simultaneous drags.

"Well, L'Manburg is gone now." 

"Crab rave."

"I fucking hate you." Wilbur flops hard onto the ground, smoke still in his lungs. "I hate you so goddamn much. Of all the fucking people to spend the afterlife with, why is it you?"

"Because we both died, asshole! And now you're stuck with me, president of Manberg!"

"It was L'Manburg. Luh-man-burg. We weren't afraid to take some L's"

"Oh, and you took some L's alright. Look at what happened! Another fuckin crater. It's not even your fault this time!"

That cuts deep.

Wilbur takes a harsh drag and almost starts coughing.

"Pussy." Schlatt takes a swig from his bottle. 

"Shut up. You're more experienced with this than I am."

"You're still a pussy."

"SHUT UP!"

Any silence in this blank void is too quiet. They let it sit between them anyways.

Wilbur finishes his cigarette and puts it out against the back of his hand. Before he can even think of asking, Schlatt is placing a lit one between his fingers.

"You should stop doing that." Schlatt's voice is low and concerned. 

"It's not permanent." Wilbur stares into the sky.

"Doesn't matter. It's still not good for you."

"I don't care."

"Alright." Schlatt holds out his bottle. "Want any whiskey?"

Wilbur sits all the way upright, takes it, and chugs.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for read <3


End file.
